All Too Human
by UsesMuses
Summary: Partnerships have one thing in common. Give and take comes with the territory. But who takes, and who gives? That's a work in progress.. John, Dorian...mentions of Valerie.


"So, what was that?" Dorian halted observing pedestrians out the window as they drove by, his amused eyes gravitating over to John's mutable face, which mirrored the 'synthetic's' quizzical expression. His flesh and blood partner wasn't as closed off as he imagined himself to be. John Kennex wore his heart on his sleeve, sometimes, which often was a simple way for the android to pick up on his partner's mood and preferences. Dorian was getting more accustomed to that singular look, coupled with the usual reaction whenever an interested John locked eyes with a female he obviously thought was worth a second glance.

"What was what for? What's on your mind now?" John asked, freely having allowed irritability to bleed into his tone. His eyes met Dorian's, challenging him. Not altogether clueless, he let his partner dangle. The synthe's demeanor never fluctuated, neither did John's. He cleared his throat, expecting Dorian to do the same. Imitation was the sincerest form of flattery. "Wait…let me guess…" With the cop car, he made a beeline for the perfect spot for their stakeout. Catching Syndicate perps would be easier, having them come to them, here, if the tip they'd snagged proved true. So far, going to these shadowy villains had been a ridiculous waste of time and man-machine effort. Revenge wouldn't give him back his real leg; he was stuck with this bionic one for the rest of his life, but settling the score, even in a small way, would satisfy him. His smirk firmly-established on his ruggedly handsome face, John said, "I stare longer than you think I should at a woman, and it's a subject for endless deliberation?"

Dorian waited, knowing this was the prelude to further discussion, so typical of his stoic partner, who feigned disinterest in the android's reactions. He never held John's responses against him; why would he? He was a tool, not a looking glass, held up to expose Kennex's flaws. With a sage look in his artificial eyes, and an instilled patient bearing, he remarked, "Is staring at an attractive woman wrong?"

"There's staring, and then there's staring," John barked automatically, beginning to gnaw on his lower lip. His engaged mind wandered. Torrential, provocative imagery, the stuff of sublime dreams, gyrated in his fertile imagination. When Dorian mentioned Det. Valerie Stahl's name, in passing, the fantasies ceased being so graphic. He pictured the smiling, willowy-figured woman's face in his mind's eye and he smiled. Dorian told him he was smiling. John wasn't about to tell him why. Valerie was some woman—all woman—and why wasn't she his partner, fighting crime, instead of this mechanized asker-of-twenty-questions he'd been saddled with? Perhaps the reason was one he didn't wish to overthink. He was attracted to Val. Maybe those fleeting, albeit it, longing glances her way whenever she came into view hadn't gone undetected by his fellow upholders of the law. He'd have to be more guarded when it came to his ogling, he warned himself, lest the obvious was broadcasted.

He liked her enough to seriously consider asking her out, nothing fancy, maybe have coffee, perhaps work up to a light supper, take a leap of faith and treat her to a movie, afterward. His heart thumped harder. A thin film of sweat bathed his forehead. Stahl was triple A+ fine.

Dorian broke the silence that had heavily intervened, again. "You do a lot of both kinds," he objectively pointed out; a hint of a grin teased his lifelike lips. "Women spook you, though. Have you ever been married?"

"No!" John decisively blustered, wishing that a roll of duct tape was tucked beneath the seat he sat on. A certain mouth running non-stop cried out for taping. Who was this drone to say the fairer sex spooked him?

"Ever want to be?" Dorian harmlessly persisted. This ground they were covering was somewhat new. The android assumed Kennex might harbor the secret desire to be wed, deep, deep down. They had danced around the subject from time to time.

"Put a lid on that, will ya?" Right that very moment, John had his eyes on possible suspects. Suspiciously, those two looked thoroughly up to no good, the way the agilely-built man and muscular woman of average height appeared to be keeping tabs on unsuspecting folks, sizing them up to do something felonious to them, Kennex astutely evaluated. Who had the weapon? The pocket of the man's jacket bulged. No wait, his groin had grown in size. Furtively, the woman had just given him a look rife with intent. John locked his jaw, steeling himself, processing the sequence of possible events leading up to an arrest. "I've got my eyes on those two. Get ready. They're gonna pull something any moment now." He could feel it.

When his potential suspects grabbed each other, pulling themselves into a fierce, sustained embrace, kissing the lips off of each other, John couldn't help feeling foolish. Those great instincts of his had apparently gone south. His pride hurt; his ego smarted. Hanging his head, he sighed. So it was turning out to be one of 'those days,' after all. The odd, smitten couple, with their arms snugly linked, sailed off.

Dorian felt obliged to repeat his question: "Would you like to be married one day, John?" The question had sounded innocent enough, despite its underlying ripple of double entendre hanging in the air.

The climate seemed to grow less blasé. His nimble ability to dodge this drone's nosy questions was bobbling. Running an unsteady hand through his hair, John relaxed, weakening his stare. "That is one life-altering, colossal step. I don't know if…" He had a hard time saying the words. "I could make a thorough commitment. That's what it takes. I don't know if I have it in me. Marriage doesn't work for selfish people."

Intrigued, Dorian went for broke, bent on drawing this taciturn man out. The astonishing machine was mesmerized by the nerve he'd struck. "Are you saying you're selfish?"

How did they get on this loaded subject, one of taboo, as far as he was concerned? John lamented, shutting his eyes, shutting them tight. His inflection was one of disapproval as he owned up, "Sometimes. Honestly, who isn't? We have our good days, and lots of bad ones." Under his breath, he susurrated, "Lots, and lots." Some poor saps had more than their fair share, he being outstandingly one.

"Do you know whether Detective Stahl is married, or has ever been?" Dorian was about to comment on a phenomenon he'd been observing lately. Whenever the shapely, radiant detective caught his partner's eye, a warm glow had the habit of suffusing her splendid face. Dorian wondered if Kennex ever noticed. How could he not? It was over the top obvious, the android reckoned.

John grilled Dorian with eyes as pointblank as he could make his dirty look. How dare the synthe drag her into this muddle of jibber-jabber? His palm scrubbed his face, his entrenched dirty look was perfectly intact when he aimed it at Dorian, again. "I've got a marvelous idea. You should ask _her_." John resumed visually scouting their immediate surroundings. Fancifully, his jaw set in stone, his tone couldn't have been less ambiguous. This subject was closed, irrevocably.

Dorian threw John a curve, a real medalist, with round wide eyes and a look of practiced innocence upon his fabricated face. Guilelessly, he inquired, "Can one unselfish, selfless person cancel a self-centered, selfish one out? If so, then perhaps if these two people married, they'd make it work."

The finger John held up stabbed the air. Defensively, with a terse, ring of finality to it, he warned, "Not another word…"

Dorian continued to speculate within the convoluted recesses of his patented mind, fighting the urge to tell John he and the fearless detective often, when circumstances mandated that they should, worked well together...like a well-oiled machine.

This was going to be a long stakeout if Dorian kept running his mouth. John told himself to pick up that duct tape as soon as possible.


End file.
